Taking It Slow - Reese Knightley Page 0,43

were both there and Spencer didn’t stop until he had Wesley in his arms, a hand cupping the back of the crying boy’s head. He gazed worriedly at Liam over Wesley’s head.

“Come on inside, you two,” Liam said quietly.

Spencer guided his brother inside and turned when Liam shut the door.

“What happened?” He turned to his brother.

Wesley stared at him and seemed incapable of words.

“Wesley?” He grew further concerned and gripped his brother by the arms.

Wesley remained mute.

“Wesley? Do you want me to tell your brother what happened?” Liam’s calm voice broke through his fear.

He noticed the panic and then relief in his brother’s eyes when Liam spoke.

“Yes.” Wesley’s voice wobbled.

“Okay. It’s okay,” he soothed his brother and drew him close. “Why don’t you go find Adam and Jessica while I talk to Liam?”

Wesley bit his lip and gazed at him. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, go on.” Spencer mustered a smile and hugged Wesley hard. After a moment, Wesley pulled away and disappeared.

“Come into my study.” Liam didn’t wait, he turned and strode into his office.

Spencer reached the room more slowly to find Liam holding out two fingers of whiskey. “Here, take a sip.”

He took a swallow and then lowered the glass. Liam shut the door and pulled him into his arms. Without hesitation, Spencer stepped closer to Liam and the man hugged him tightly.

With his hand tightening around the glass, Spencer placed his cheek on Liam’s shoulder and closed his eyes. While the phone message had been vague, he was so fucking thankful that Wesley was safe.

Liam drew him over to the small couch that sat along one wall of his office and Spencer took a seat.

“What happened?”

“Take another sip and I’ll tell you,” Liam ordered.

Spencer took another slow swallow of the bourbon. When a colonel in the United States Army tells you to do something in their colonel voice, you fucking do it.

He rolled the glass between his palms and held Liam’s green gaze.

“Your mother was shot and killed today.”

“What?” he gasped, the whiskey rolling in his stomach.

Liam went on after a small nod. “Her boyfriend is in critical condition and with a bullet wound to his leg and graze to his temple. He hasn’t regained consciousness.”

The words were measured and slowly said, but it took a moment for everything to register.

“What happened?” Was that his voice, he wondered? It sounded dead, no emotion.

“It appears they were fighting and got ahold of a gun. The detective on scene is investigating. When Wesley couldn’t reach you, he called the base.”

“My mom doesn’t own a gun,” he said stupidly.

“That’s good to know. Does Wesley?” Liam asked seriously.

“What?” Spencer squinted at Liam like he was crazy. “No!” But after a moment, he admitted quietly, “I, um, I don’t know.” Another moment passed as he thought about it further. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“We’ll ask him,” Liam said softly.

“Even if he did get his hands on a weapon, Wesley wouldn’t shoot anyone. She may have been a shitty parent, but Wes wouldn’t kill his own mother,” he ground out.

“What about the boyfriend? Think he might have a gun?”

“Maybe.” He rubbed tiredly at his forehead and took a swallow.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.”

He blinked, looking up from his glass. Sorry? For what? He wanted to say. For the loss of a mother that had never wanted him and hated him from the day he was born? He’d mourn her, but he’d mourn the idea of the mother she could have been, not the one she had been. He couldn’t mourn a mother who had never shown him any affection.

He lifted the whiskey and his hand shook. Liam’s hand came up to steady his and he took several swallows, draining the glass. Feeling the warmth of the liquid took some of the sting away.

Rather than say thank you, Spencer leaned against Liam. It seemed to be his go-to now that they’d taken their relationship to another level.

“I told you, my family is all kinds of crazy,” he whispered.

“I don’t fucking care,” Liam growled, holding him tight.

The embrace drew a lump to his throat and Spencer could do nothing but hold on.

Liam

“You’ll need to take time off to make arrangements,” he said gently and cupped Spencer’s foot. He massaged his thumb into the ball and Spencer closed his eyes.

The week had been traumatic. Detective Stew had questioned Spencer during the investigation. To aid in the search for the missing weapon that killed his mother, Spencer had handed over his personal weapon for testing.

Spencer and Wesley had stayed at his